


Living Nightmare

by writtenthroughtime



Category: Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-10 20:08:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5599192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writtenthroughtime/pseuds/writtenthroughtime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anonymous Asked: What if Geneva hadn't died? Would this change things at Helwater? At Frasers' Ridge?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Living Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> Happy New Year everyone! May it bring happiness to you all! Here is to a great 2016!

     The stables at Hellwater were finally filled with the only occupants necessary, the horses. For the first time since the Earl of Ellesmere’s funeral proceedings the grounds were sparse, no longer filled with idle gossip, hushed whispers, and widening curious eyes that followed me everywhere—After being forced to act as a pallbearer for the late Earl, I could escape to any crevice of Hellwater without eyes teamed with curiosity stalking my every move. The lassies blushed and whispered behind cupped palms or frilly, unneeded fans; the men scrutinized and scoffed—whether it was at my towering size, brightness of hair, or sheer foreignness, I kent not.  
     My reverie in the stables was too good to be true, the feeling of someone lurking in the shadows had the horses skittering and the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end—Claire would have called my natural warrior instincts. Gripping the pitch fork tighter, I prepared myself to strike when necessary.  
     “There you are MacKenzie! Or shall you prefer to be called Jamie or daddy?” Geneva Dunsany, my own personal torment while at Hellwater was back yet again, now that her husband is dead.  
     “Lady Ransom,” I inclined my head out of habit and mock respect. “I would prefer it if ye were to only call me MacKenzie or if ye wish groom will do fine. I dinna need yer false pleasantries.”  
     I caught sight of Geneva’s face scrunch up in what I can hope to be annoyance or anger, causing her to leave me be. Sighing, I focused on filling the mangers with straw, with the vain and futile hope that if ignored she would leave.  
    “Oh Jamie, you do like to try me.” Geneva laughed, which only resulted in my ire to increase drastically. “Why do you persist on ignoring me? Ignoring our son?”  
     “Dinna call me Jamie. As for ou—your son, he isna mine; by law and birthright he is the Earl of Ellesmere’s. I willna have the bairn be disgraced by knowledge of my being his blood when he is old enough to understand. Ye shouldna want that either, but when have ye ever thought of someone other than yerself?”  
     “I’m sure I can change your mind about the boy. He does resemble you, it’s rather endearing.” Her tone took that of wistfulness that made my wame churn. “He will surely grow to be tall, handsome and strong as his father…” She laid a hand on my arm, slowly rubbing in what she must perceive to be sensual circles, when in reality it caused my body to prickle in revulsion. “Ach, cack! NO! Damn it woman, I told ye no before ye wed with Lord Ransom that I’d no lay with ye again, and I intended to stay true to my word!”  
     Jerking my arm free from her advances, she stalked ever closer to me; the disgust on my face and the hatred in my eyes did nothing to dissuade her.  
     “Ooh, I know you are just trying to protect me—very admirable of you.” She said with a wink. “However, you know we are so good together. Why must you live in constant denial?” The same hand as before reached out, this time I deftly moved out of the way—Willing the growing fire inside to quell. Snorting violently kept me from lashing out and ensuring my own death.  
     “Why do you fight it? I burn for your touch, I yearn for your primitive barbaric Scottish ways, I pine for your presence; everyone knows William is not my late husband’s. I never touched the foul man, save for the required times the one day… the day after our all-consuming night together.”  
     The news she didna continue her marital duties with her late husband faintly piqued my interest. As a wife she is lawfully and sacramentally bound to do so, it was her right and duty; why would she discontinue the relations? Never matter that the man was old enough to be her father—grandfather even, he was still her husband.  
     “I see the pain you try to mask. Is it your dear sister in the Highlands? Or perhaps, it is from another—a long since abandoned wife, perhaps?”  
     I turned with a ferocity towards Geneva, causing her to step back. “Ye kent nothing of my pain, or my wife! Dinna pretend to be knowledgeable in either subject.” The quiet rage that had been building inside compounded with the rage and grief of Culloden, the years apart from my Sassenach, the pain of unknowing what was to become of her or the bairn she had yet to bore, and flooded to the surface of my being. “Ye blackmailed me once into an unholy relation with ye, and I’ll be damned before I allow ye to do it again! Leave me be, now.”  
     Leveling a glare at Geneva all rational and civil thoughts were gone, she looked back with her version of a glare— a glare that only a weak minded person who didna ken true hate could produce.  
     “Oh! You think it is all about _you_? _Your_ wife! _Your_ sister! _Your bloody barbaric family_! What about _my_ child, the one I may point out, _you_ fathered? My family? ME?” She stepped forward her legs wobbling and hands shaking. My glare unwavering with each breath she took. “Are you to abandon us the way you abandoned your wife? Would you really abandon your own son?”  
     “Aye! I do intend to abandon ye! I have from the start, I never wanted to have anything to do with ye. If ye recall, ye sought me out, nae the other way around! What is yer concern is what is best for that bairn, ye kent well enough that a groom is no the man ye want claiming him, so stop with yer incessant drivel! Christ, I wish my wife were here to knock some sense into ye! Claire was the best gift the Almighty ever bestowed upon me, and ye willna besmirch her name by sayin’ I abandoned her! Do ye ken what heartbreak truly feels, lass? To have the world in yer hand bright as the sun, filling ye up with love and hope, then to have it snatched out of yer hands as quick as snuffing a candle. Death to nae only the person ye love more than yer own life, but also to a life that was made of both of ye?” Her eyes widened, hand frozen mind reach. “I didna think so. Get out of my sight, and good evening to ye Mistress Ransom.”  
     With that I turned back to the horses, starting the calming rhythm of forking hay.  
     “You will regret this, James Fraser. I know well who you are, and you will regret this day.”  
     Not even pausing to acknowledge her ridiculous remark, I continued on with my work.  
     “Jamie?” What the devil does this vile woman want now? “Jamie?” The voice, it wasna Geneva’s. “Jamie!” Claire! Oh my dear, Sorcha. Please come back to me!  
     “JAMIE!”  
     Jerking into consciousness the hazy form of Claire hovering overtop of me, arms braced on my shoulder brought me back to the present. “Jamie, it was only a nightmare. Please calm down, I’m here.”  
     Tears formed in my eyes, my love, my light, my everything was here. Not the vile woman who I curse everyday for my torment at Hellwater.  
     “You kept calling out; alternating between ‘no’ and my name. What was it that had you so disturbed? Randall again?”  
     Shaking my head, for once the horror of Wentworth was not what plagued my dreams, “I believe it was because of the boy.”  
     “Lord John’s stepson, you mean?”  
     “Aye. There’s something I havena told ye, Claire and I wish to do so now.”  
     “If it’s about William being your son, I know. The resemblance is uncanny and Lord John confirmed it not long ago. Why did you keep this from me? Did you think I would love you any less knowing you had a son that was not mine?”  
     Always too understanding, my Sassenach. “Aye, him. The reason wasna because he was mine, but more because of his mother.”  
     “Lord John says she died when the boy was two, of some sort of ailment, not your fault at all, Jamie.”  
     “That wasna the reason; it’s more the reason William exists. She was to marry the Earl of Ellesmere—William’s lawful father—and desired me instead. Geneva, she—well she got ahold of one of Jenny’s letters and blackmailed me into having relations with her by threatening my family. I vowed never to let her use me again, and I never did. The nightmare was of the day she first sought me out after her husbands funeral, a week after the boy’s birth.”  
     Claire’s hands rested comfortingly along my arm as she lowered herself onto my chest, holding my very being together. “That time was nae so easy, mo nighean donn. The pain of losing ye and Brianna was still so raw, she kent where to prod to fire me up. I’m surprised I didna lose my parole after her visit. She tried numerous times to get me to bed her yet again, I refused. I’d rather receive lashes than lay with her.”  
     “Jamie, I’m sorry this happened to you, but do you really regret the result of her vindictiveness? That little boy has a life thanks to you. I may not like it that you have a son that isn’t mine, but I cannot dislike the life you’ve brought to this world.”  
     Hugging her close to me, I kissed her wayward curls smiling. “Aye, ye are right, Sassenach.”


End file.
